


Blue Hydrangeas

by nerdlife4eva



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Apologies, Canon Related, Canon Universe, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Flashbacks, Flower Crowns, Flowers, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Inspired by Fanart, Kissing, Kissing in the Rain, Language of Flowers, M/M, Surprise Ending, True Love, Victuuri Big Bang 2018, argument
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 19:48:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14961027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdlife4eva/pseuds/nerdlife4eva
Summary: After an argument at the Ice Palace, Yuuri and Victor reflect on what brought them together.Inspired by the incredible art ofdyeing doll on Tumblrwhich you can findhere(I'll add it to the story when Ao3 is fully functional again). DD was nice enough to let me write for this art after I saw that the prompt was open as a part of theViktuuri Big Bang. Please go give DD all the love for this amazing work!





	Blue Hydrangeas

**Author's Note:**

> Flashbacks are in italics. 
> 
> I'm a pinch hitter for this art and I wrote this fic in a day (and a day when my beta is real life busy) so please forgive any errors! 
> 
> My second Big Bang fic will release on June 26th and is a Victuuri College AU with art by [katsukifatale](http://katsudons.co.vu)
> 
> If you like this piece, please consider checking out my other works!

The air felt heavy. Low rumbles of thunder echoed over the waves of the ocean, warning of the impending storm and driving all of the wise residents of Hasetsu indoors. A storm, rolling in on the backs of dull gray clouds, threatened to disrupt the brightness of the day with its menacing winds piercing the suppressive heat.

 _How fitting_ , Yuuri thought to himself, hands shoved deep into his pockets, head hanging downward, eyes focused on the ground as the last of his tears disappeared into the neckline of his sweater. His world had also felt bright and unexplainably warm when he had awoken that morning, curled against Victor’s bare chest with his heartbeat pattering peacefully in Yuuri’s ear.

Their relationship was still novel, the electricity still sparking between them as they navigated every new step. This morning they had hesitantly pulled themselves apart, dressing for another day of practice and smiling as they stole morning-breath kisses from each other’s lips. Everything had felt right. Every moment felt like a dream. Every second felt born from Yuuri’s wildest imagination and yet still somehow better than he had ever believed it could be.

Which made every minute of their afternoon feel that much worse.

Scoffing, Yuuri kicked at the sidewalk, unable to contain his frustration. Although he had taken every ounce of his emotions out on Victor, he knew that the frustration he felt was aimed solely at himself. While he had been letting angry tears and even angrier words pierce their relationship, bringing hurt and distress to all the corners of the man he loved, the rational part of Yuuri’s mind had been screaming at him to stop. That little voice that begged for reason was smothered by the beast of his anxiety who could scream louder than any other voice in Yuuri’s head.

 _Except for Victor’s voice_ , Yuuri reminded himself, feeling the weight of this acknowledgement drop into his stomach. Victor was developing the ability to cut through the blaring screeches of Yuuri’s demons, and even though the results were hardly flawless, it still seemed that Victor’s voice had become one of Yuuri’s best weapons.

Yuuri felt his stomach twist into a painful knot, the scene from the middle of the ice replaying in his mind like a flickering horror film. His cheeks burned with his embarrassment, the tears prickling in unveiled threats at the corners of his eyes. Thankful that the imminent storm had chased everyone inside, Yuuri slumped against the closest wall, listening to his own ragged breathing as his ears continued to burn with his own humiliation.

He wanted Victor as his boyfriend, a fact that he had only recently understood and accepted, his heart soaring when Victor had nearly tackled him upon his confession. Falling for Victor, falling into Victor, had felt like the most natural development in Yuuri’s life, and he had never felt so certain about anything.

Except that Yuuri also desperately wanted Victor as his coach. Victor’s choreography, his advice, and his experience were valuable tools in the development and positive changes in Yuuri’s own skating. Even when Victor was making corrections, they weren’t based on anything but pure fact, facts that Yuuri could see and feel, even when his mind wanted to morph them into something ugly. Victor was beautiful in every moment, his eyes lighting up with pride when Yuuri completed his program without errors or quietly contemplative when deciding where adjustments needed to be made. It was obvious that Victor loved coaching Yuuri, potentially as much as Yuuri loved being coached by Victor.

_“Maybe we should try another jump,” Victor suggested, skating to stand in front of Yuuri, placing one hand on his shoulder. “This one seems to be stuck in the same careless loop today. Let’s put it aside and try something else.”_

_The kind, but tight, smile on Victor’s face made Yuuri’s blood boil. He was frustrated at his lack of success, but Victor’s lack of belief in Yuuri’s ability to improve his second quad made Yuuri’s mind fill with a deep red resentment. It was easy for Victor to put aside a jump, since he had so many to choose from, but this wasn’t the case for Yuuri. He hadn’t realized he had spoken this bitter statement out loud until Victor responded to it._

_“It’s not easy for me either. I fell… a lot… before I mastered any of my jumps.” Victor’s smile softened, which only fueled the fire igniting inside of Yuuri’s chest. “You’ll get it, but when a jump isn’t working, it is best to move on and come back with a fresh mind and body.”_

_“Says the Living Legend,” Yuuri spat, his patience snapping with every calming word Victor attempted to speak. Part of his mind told him the harsh remark was uncalled for, but the anxious part of him, the part that was roaring that he would never be as good as Victor, told him to keep pushing. Skating backwards, Yuuri crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his coach._

_“Yuuri,” Victor spoke with a defeated sigh, his arms hanging at his sides, his eyes looking lost and listless. “That’s a stupid nickname and you know it. But I have been skating longer than you and I am your coach, and I know what I’m talking about.”_

Remembering the argument made Yuuri’s guilt double in size, realizing once again what an overreacting fool he really was. Groaning, Yuuri banged the back of his head against the wall behind him, refusing to relive the rest of their painful interaction.

Victor _was_ his coach, it was his job to correct Yuuri’s missteps and to advise Yuuri on his journey to fulfilling his own potential. It wasn’t as if Victor had been criticizing his kissing techniques or his abilities in bed (for those things, Victor only had blushing praises), he was merely being the best coach Victor knew how to be. It wasn’t Victor’s fault that Yuuri was an oversensitive mess.

Unable to stand still any longer, his own regret creeping under his skin and making him feel restless, Yuuri pushed off from the wall and set off to relieve himself of some of his anxious energy. If he could wrap his head around his own mistakes, face them head on inside of his own mind, maybe then he would be able to properly apologize to Victor.

Ignoring the cautionary growl of thunder above his head, Yuuri began to jog, determined to clear his mind and rehearse his apology.

* * *

 

Feet thudding against the sidewalk in an unusually ungraceful gait, Victor ran toward the front entrance of the onsen. He wasn’t sure if it was anger or fear that was fueling his drive to race faster than his post-practice body wanted. His head was still spinning from the whiplash of Yuuri’s outburst and his need to find his boyfriend to make amends.

Somewhere between Yuuri’s sloppy free leg and the third botched jump of the afternoon, Victor had begun to temper his own frustrations by chewing on the inside of his cheek. Yakov had complained, loudly and to anyone who would listen, about Victor’s stubbornness and deep down Victor wondered if Yuuri’s own version of the same trait was the universe’s idea of payback. Still, Victor had kept himself calm, tapping his index finger on his lip to the same beat as the counting he was doing in his head as he watched Yuuri repeat the same messy takeoff for a fourth time.

A lump, comprised of confusion and concern, rose in Victor’s throat, bringing with it the strong urge to cry. He slowed his pace, curling his fingers into tight fists to will the feeling away, breathing deeply as he took the last deliberate steps toward the onsen’s front doors.

People were crowded at the small tables, bowls of hot food taking up the wooden space in front of them. Noise filled the space, assaulting Victor’s ears with its exuberant happiness. These people were content to ride out the storm with the Katsukis’ outstanding cuisine, safely tucked into the dining room before the rain could soak them in their travels. Panicked as several sets of eyes turned in his direction, Victor raised a hand and waved politely, a false smile plastered across his face as he hurried through the dining area.

At the entrance to the hallway a firm hand on Victor’s elbow stopped his movement. Inhaling slowly, Victor turned around, not looking down when the undeniable fluff of Makkachin pressed against his leg.

“He’s not here,” Mari said plainly, dropping her hand from Victor’s arm and eying him cautiously. “He left when he realized how many people were here. I suppose the streets are emptier than the buildings right now.” Leaning to her right, Mari peaked through the closest window, studying the treacherous sky with a concerned look.

“We had…” Victor trailed his fingers through the fur on the top of Makkachin’s head trying to calm himself so his voice would stop shaking. “A fight, I suppose.”

He didn’t like that word, it always brought up images of physical hits and open wounds. They hadn’t fought, Victor had come off cold while attempting to control his emotions and Yuuri had reacted. Yuuri had been hurt and with that hurt had unleashed his own brand of fury. Then Yuuri had gone silent, removing his skates and fleeing from the rink without another word.

Victor almost wished he had stayed so they could have hashed out all of the issues at once.

“Come on,” Mari had let Victor stand quietly after his hesitant admission, watching as the thoughts had circled through Victor’s mind, his frown growing deeper with each passing second. Nodding over her right shoulder, she turned on her heel and Victor felt an obligation to follow, despite his narrow-minded desire to find Yuuri immediately.

The small courtyard was devoid of people, the sky still a warring line of sunshine and rain clouds, and Victor let his feet drag as he followed Mari’s path. At the small stone bench, where Victor and Yuuri had discovered pieces of each other over countless lunch breaks and cooling cups of tea, Victor found himself unceremoniously collapsing next to Mari’s collected form. Silently, he stared at his twiddling fingers, waiting for whatever questions Mari was going to lob in his direction.

“What happened?” Placing a cigarette between her lips, Mari puffed out smoke. Victor appreciated her directness even if he could do without the stench of nicotine.

“I don’t… know…” Victor sighed, shrugging his shoulders and refusing to lift his gaze from the stones beneath his feet. “Practice wasn’t… great. Not bad, per say, but Yuuri wasn’t in his best form. I tried to give him some constructive criticism, but I believe I let my own emotions interfere.” Sheepishly, Victor glanced toward Mari. “I wish he could see himself through my eyes. A sloppy free leg doesn’t make him bad, it makes that leg bad. He doesn’t seem to understand the difference.” Curling his hands back into fists, Victor pressed them against his thighs to fight off another round of swirling emotions.

“Hmph,” Mari’s noise was thoughtful. “Maybe that’s not it.”

Confused, Victor twisted his body to contemplate Mari’s raised eyebrow. “Not it?” He was exhausted and his brain felt like it was slogging through mush as he tried to parse out Mari’s speculation.

“It must be hard, I assume, to have your boyfriend as your coach.” With skilled ease, Mari rolled the end of her cigarette between her fingers before sliding the remaining portion into the box in her other hand. “Imagine, being critiqued by someone you love, by someone you have looked up to for so long. For anyone that would be hard, for Yuuri… well… it’s probably devastating.” Slipping the box of cigarettes back into her pocket, Mari stood slowly from the bench. “He’s tough and stubborn, a fighter in all senses of the word, but his heart is as breakable as anyone else’s. Even yours.” Nodding briefly, Mari moved away from Victor, leaving him alone on the bench to mule over her words.

Being someone’s boyfriend was a new concept for Victor, and for Yuuri as well. He remembered the day he had admitted that his playboy image was all media-fabricated and the way Yuuri had quietly whispered, “I know.” Relief had trickled through Victor with Yuuri’s soft-spoken words, the two words singing with understanding instead of judgment. He hadn’t dared to ask Yuuri how he knew and he hadn’t pried for details when Yuuri had admitted his own lack of experience. When it came to love, they were equally as clumsy, but they were stumbling together and that’s all that mattered to Victor.

Skating was a completely different monster.

In the weeks that Victor had spent wondering why Yuuri hadn’t reached out to him after the banquet, Victor had combed YouTube for every Yuuri Katsuki video available. He had watched Yuuri’s old programs, he had watched fan videos, and on more than one night that he would never admit to, he had watched Phichit’s videos of Yuuri practicing ballet, remembering distinctly the feeling of Yuuri’s powerful body against his own. Flushing at his own memory of those nights alone in his room, Victor shoved the thought away.

What had been impossible for Victor to piece together was how inconsistent Yuuri seemed to be once he stepped on the ice. Fan videos of Yuuri practicing, some seemingly snuck during closed practices at Yuuri’s home rink, had shown Yuuri as a relaxed skater who seemed lost to the story of the music. His body moved with a rhythm in a way that Victor had never seen before, and it had entranced him in the same way he had been that night in Sochi.

Then came Yuuri’s performances. Some were as breathtaking as Yuuri’s Eros routine, stealing Victor’s heart through each step sequence. Others were full of technical errors and missed jumps leaving Victor utterly distraught as Yuuri’s shoulders remained raised despite his crushing defeats.

When he came to Hasetsu, Victor hadn’t been sure which Yuuri he would discover. Would Yuuri be the confident, bold man who had swept Victor off his feet? Or would he be the shy skater who answered the press with small nods and even smaller sentences? It had been a surprise to discover that Yuuri was all of these things, a complicated weaving of a man who kept Victor intrigued and curious throughout every moment they spent together. Yuuri inspired Victor in ways that he couldn’t put into words and his eyes widened with that thought.

In all the words that he had exchanged with Yuuri, in all the moments where words didn’t seem needed, Victor had never explicitly told Yuuri how much Yuuri was changing his attitude toward skating. While Yuuri had openly declared his desire to keep winning with Victor, Victor had never told Yuuri exactly what coaching meant to him. He had taken the time and care to tell Yuuri all of his personal feelings, highlighting each aspect he adored about Yuuri until his boyfriend was a blushing, stuttering mess. What he hadn’t put into words, because Victor wasn’t exactly sure what words could best describe his feelings, was how much their relationship as skater and coach also meant to him.

_“I GET IT!” Yuuri yelled, throwing a hand out, causing his body to thrust forward. He nearly collided with Victor in his rage. “I know I’m not as good as you. I know I’m probably wasting your time. My free leg has always been terrible, my jumps are a disgrace! Do you really think that’s going to change? It’s how it’s always been!” Yuuri’s voice cracked on his last two words, his teeth snapping together as he closed his jaw in defiance of his own feelings._

_Before Victor could come up with a response, Yuuri skated away, still muttering under his breath until he reached the edge of the barrier wall. The silence tore through Victor, choking him as he stood alone in the middle of the ice. Yuuri yanked his skates from his feet, hands clumsy in his irritation as he tried to jam on the blade guards. They disappeared into Yuuri’s bag, the bag then quickly tossed over Yuuri’s shoulder as he fled from the rink, never turning back to Victor._

_Muted and defeated by his own inability to call out to Yuuri, to stop him from running away, Victor sank to the ice, holding his head in his hands and wondering if this was the end of everything he had ever wanted._

Reaching down to grip Makkachin’s cheeks between his hands, Victor shook his head. “I messed up, Makka.” Victor chuckled when she woofed at him, resting her chin against his knee. “I forgot to be both people. Coach and boyfriend. Two separate people,” leaning down to nuzzle Makkachin’s neck, Victor huffed. “Your papa is an idiot.” He felt his heart lighten as Makkachin woofed again, licking the side of his face in what seemed like an agreement.

Standing up, Victor waved a hand toward the door. “Let’s get you inside before it rains. I’ll go find him and make it right. I promise.” Walking with Makkachin at his heel, Victor began to formulate his words, speaking softly out loud to his beloved companion. He was determined to find a way to fix this.

Letting Makkachin back into building through the sliding door, Victor changed his course to head away from the onsen. Behind him, the sky began to darken as a storm rolled over the town.

* * *

 

Ducking under a tree, Yuuri tilted his head forward, running his hand through his hair to attempt to dry it out. In vain, he wiped the lenses of his glasses with his wet sweater, smearing the water across them instead of removing it. Shaking his head, Yuuri slipped his glasses carefully into his pocket, succumbing to blurry vision rather than eyesight tampered by the pouring rain.

He had been lost in his own thoughts, the words to his apology racing through his mind as he had relieved his stress by running through the abandoned streets. All of the intelligent people had sought shelter before the rain had begun to shower the world. Yuuri was certainly not one of them.

Sheltered barely by the tree, Yuuri stared out at the beautiful flowers around him. Flowers of all shapes and sizes blooming in the rainiest season of their year, their scents released into the air to mingle with the smell of falling rain. They were a spectrum of colors and sizes and Yuuri remembered the last time he had been in this very garden.

_“Did you know all of these flowers have meanings?” Pulling Victor closer to his side by their joined hands, Yuuri pointed to a bright purple flower. “Those are irises, they represent a connection between heaven and earth.”_

_“You’re my heaven on earth,” Victor said, pressing a kiss to Yuuri’s neck and laughing along with Yuuri’s flustered giggles._

_Playfully nudging Victor’s shoulder, Yuuri relinquished his hold on Victor’s hand to wrap his arms around Victor’s waist. “Different colors of flowers have different meanings too,” Yuuri smiled up at Victor and then nodded toward another group of purple flowers. “Purple hydrangeas symbolize a desire to deeply understand someone.” Lifting one hand, Yuuri gently guided Victor’s bangs away from his eyes._

_“How fitting,” Victor smiled, pressing his hands against Yuuri’s lower back to bring them closer together. “That’s the exact desire I have.”_

_Giddy with happiness, Yuuri gladly accepted Victor’s kiss, his smile still twitching at his lips when they pulled away._

The memory of that moment had Yuuri’s eyes watering again, his heart squeezing in his chest as he remembered their afternoon lazily exploring the garden and Victor’s seemingly never-ending questions. His beautiful, curious Victor, who wanted to discover everything he could about Yuuri’s home, simply because it was Yuuri’s.

This brilliant man had showed up in Yuuri’s world, unexpected and unannounced (and completely naked), willing to take a chance on a failing skater who had lost his way. Victor had been willing to believe in Yuuri, even when Yuuri had found it hard to believe in himself. Victor wasn’t perfect, but it was Yuuri who had the privilege of seeing Victor’s mistakes and watching as Victor strived to learn from each one.

Even as a coach, Victor was constantly adjusting and shifting to try to meet Yuuri’s needs. When Yuuri had yelled, filling the Ice Palace with his frustrated outrage, Victor had tried to stand against the unreasonable reaction with calm patience. It hadn’t been Victor who had stormed away, it hadn’t been Victor who lost his temper, even though Yuuri wouldn’t have blamed him if he had. Standing under the failing shelter of the park’s largest tree, Yuuri realized that despite all his flaws, Victor loved him, as a man and as a skater. The thought rang so poignantly true in Yuuri’s heart that he felt breathless.

With a hand over his chest, Yuuri looked up to examine the strength of the rain, clutching himself harder when he discovered Victor watching him from the other side of the garden.

Victor had let his feet carry him forward, unsure of where to begin his search for Yuuri. With every step, he thought about what he could say to make Yuuri understand all the ways that he was sorry. He would promise Yuuri that he would work harder to acknowledge Yuuri’s positive qualities on the ice, and remember that while Victor had two roles in Yuuri’s life, Yuuri also had two roles in his. In both those roles, Yuuri was the most important person in Victor’s world and all he needed was a chance to remind Yuuri of that.

He had arrived in the garden almost by accident, drawn to the flowers which seemed to provide a rainbow beacon in the middle of the driving rain. Slumping against a tree, Victor had tried to shake the rain water from his jacket, looking up to discover Yuuri shaking the water from his soaked hair.

A memory flashed through Victor’s mind, vividly bright and making his heart flutter. Laughing under the outdoor shower, playfully trying to wash the sand from Yuuri’s hair at the same time that Yuuri attempted to return the favor. They had spent that day splashing in the waves and spent that evening carefully combing the tangles from each other’s hair and cuddling with Makkachin in a pile on Victor’s bed. He remembered the feeling of being safe in Yuuri’s care, that feeling warming his chest and spreading through him as Victor began to run through the rain.

Yuuri began to move in the same moment Victor did, his smile breaking over his face as his tears mixed with the rain on his cheeks. They were in sync, as they always were when they stopped trying to overthink every moment and simply listened to their hearts. Yuuri’s heart was carrying him now, out over the winding gravel path and in between the beautiful array of flower bushes.

The moment Yuuri collided with Victor’s chest, Victor wound his arms around Yuuri, words spilling from him as quickly as Yuuri’s own apologies. Laughing, Victor grabbed Yuuri’s face with his free hand, his jacket dangling from his other as he pressed himself close to Yuuri for a kiss.

“I’m so sorry,” Victor spoke above the noise of the rain, eyes searching Yuuri’s praying he could hear the truth in the words. Lifting his jacket, Victor draped it over their heads, smiling as Yuuri helped suspend it above them. “I’m sorry,” Victor said again, resting his forehead against Yuuri’s. “I spend so much time telling you why you’re wonderful as my boyfriend, I forget to tell you why you are wonderful as my skater. Yakov isn’t good at positive feedback, but that isn’t an excuse. I don’t have to be the same coach he is, I can be my own version. I can be _your_ coach, and I will be better. I promise.”

Victor’s breathe grazed over Yuuri’s face as he spoke, making Yuuri feel every word as much as he heard them. Yuuri’s hand resting on Victor’s chest revealed the quickened pace of Victor’s heartbeat, leaving Yuuri overwhelmed by the overflow of caring love pouring from Victor. Stuttering his own attempts to breath, Yuuri looked up, his expression soft and equally as full of affection as Victor’s words.

“Remember the beach?” Yuuri asked, hand curling into Victor’s shirt, his heart drumming harder as Victor curled his own fingers in the waist-level hem of Yuuri’s shirt. Yuuri could see the pink spreading over Victor’s cheeks and couldn’t help the tears that continued to fall, despite the happiness swelling in Yuuri’s chest. “I asked you to be Victor. You are everything I could ever want or need, as a coach and as a partner. I took my frustrations out on you. I’m sorry. I’m not always… rational,” Yuuri frowned, losing his words and struggling to remember all the sentences he had carefully crafted in his mind. “It’s not your fault.”

“Nor is it yours,” Victor added, shifting to kiss Yuuri again. “I can’t promise to always understand, but I promise to keep trying. I won’t give up on you… I hope you won’t give up on me.”

“You’re better with words than I am,” Yuuri blurted out, “and I tried to practice too!” Eyes going wide, Yuuri blushed, until they both dissolved into laughter. “Yes, to all of that.” He smiled, tugging Victor closer to him for another kiss.

The rain began to slow, until its pitter patter against Victor’s jacket became sporadic. Lowering it, Victor folded it over his arm and used the other to pull Yuuri close to him, hand wrapped gently at Yuuri’s hip. Smiling as Yuuri laid his head against Victor’s shoulder, Victor raised an eyebrow when Yuuri snorted. “What’s funny?”

“See these flowers?” Yuuri trailed his fingers over the large blue blooms. “These are blue hydrangeas. They symbolize apology.” A sense of perfection settled over Yuuri as he realized that all the bushes surrounding their immediate area were blue and purple hydrangeas.

“A desire to deeply understand someone,” Victor quietly recited, fingers grazing over the closest purple bloom. When he returned his gaze to Yuuri’s, he found the love he felt deep within his soul reflected in Yuuri’s smile. “Let’s go home,” Victor suggested, barely noticing the rain still dribbling from the clouds above.

“Home,” Yuuri repeated, feeling the power of that word being used by Victor to describe the onsen sink directly into the depths of his heart.

As they made their way back, hands swinging between them, the sun broke through the storm clouds, sending warming rays to guide their path.

* * *

 

**One year later**

“Where are they?” Phichit yelled, standing at the threshold of Yuuri’s childhood bedroom glaring daggers at Mari, who was too calm and collected for his liking. The wedding ceremony was due to start in less than an hour and the grooms were nowhere to be found.

With a hint of a smile, Mari winked at her mother. “They’ll be back. There was something they wanted to do first.”

Exasperated, Phichit stomped from the room muttering about being friends with the world’s most extra husbands-to-be. Exchanging secretive smiles, Mari and her mother slipped from the room and out of the onsen.

* * *

 

Toshiya, Victor and Yuuri stood patiently, offering hugs as Mari and Hiroko arrived in the garden. Although the larger ceremony would take place on the beach, there was a more private piece that Victor and Yuuri had chosen only to share with their family.

With shaking hands, Victor held the wire frame, smiling when he noticed Yuuri nervously spinning his. “Yuuri,” Victor said, reaching forward to cover Yuuri’s hand with his, “do you want to go first?”

Nodding his head yes, Yuuri accepted the first bud that his father clipped from the bush. They had requested special permission from the head gardener, and had agreed to plant one flower bush for every bud they cut. Clearing his throat, Yuuri reached forward, lacing a purple iris into the pliable wire circle in Victor’s hand. “Iris, as a symbol of our heaven here on Earth and of loyalty.” His voice didn’t shake as much as he thought it would, and Yuuri happily offered his own crown for Victor to repeat the gesture.

Accepting the second bud from his father, Yuuri weaved the delicate stem between the woven wires. “Morning Glory, symbolizing the bond of love.” He took a deep breath as Victor mimicked his motions. “Bellflower, for unchanging love and honesty.” Moving his fingers quickly, Yuuri threaded the stem. “Lavender-”

“Because it smells good,” Victor interrupted, making Yuuri and his family laugh. Grinning, Victor plucked the flower from Yuuri’s fingers. “And because we will always be faithful to each other.”

“Purple hydrangea,” Yuuri felt the lump rise in his throat, swallowing hard to allow himself to keep talking. “Symbolizing our desire to always understand each other.”

“Or die trying,” Mari added, snickering when her mother elbowed her side.

“Or die trying,” Victor and Yuuri repeated, both laughing and breaking the emotional tension between them.

“Finally,” Toshiya held up four hydrangea blooms, “blue hydrangea, to remind you that there is no shame in apologizing and a promise to always give each other the chance to right all wrongdoings.” He handed the flowers to Mari and Hiroko, who each laced one into each crown.

“And a promise to never give up on each other,” Hiroko kissed Yuuri’s cheek and then Victor’s.

“Even when you are both idiots,” Mari added, squeezing their shoulders before stepping away.

“Are you ready to become Mr. Idiot Kastsuki-Nikiforov?” Victor asked, barely suppressing the giggle bubbling inside him, a mixture of amusement and unadulterated happiness, as he placed the flower crown on Yuuri’s head.

“Absolutely,” Yuuri answered, his laughter dancing through the garden, his trembling hands arranging the crown atop of Victor’s silver hair.

Hand-in-hand, Yuuri and Victor walked away from the garden and toward their future, with the reminder of all their promises to each other weaved together in rainbow crowns of floral colors.  

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Although some flowers have multiple meanings, I used the ones that best fit Victor and Yuuri :) 
> 
> Please come find me on Tumblr if you want to :) [n3rdlif343va](https://n3rdlif343va.tumblr.com)


End file.
